


Bonus

by wisdomeagle



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Curtain Fic, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-02-07
Updated: 2005-02-07
Packaged: 2017-10-11 02:29:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/107373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisdomeagle/pseuds/wisdomeagle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fred and Wesley desperately need a spatula.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bonus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [callmesandy](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=callmesandy).



"You know, Wesley," Fred said with a smile, "it's really a miracle that you managed to survive this long without starving to death. Have you had the company doctors check out your metabolism?"

"We don't _have_ company doctors," Wesley responded, struggling through the door to his apartment with another box of Fred's books. "However did you acquire all these? You haven't been back for a year yet."

"I had my parents ship a lot of them here and -- _careful_! That box has my lab gear in it! And we should really look into getting some doctors. And hazard pay. Why doesn't Angel give us hazard pay?"

"I rather suspect Angel is fond of keeping at least _some_ of his earnings to feed himself and his child."

Fred pondered and glanced around Wesley's kitchen one more time. "You really never cook, do you?"

Wesley shook his head. "There really isn't going to be room for both of us to work in the living room, is there? Are you planning on bringing a lot of work h-home?" His voice caught. _Home_. From now on, _their_ home.

Fred seemed to notice the trembling in his voice, because she stopped frowning at his lack of kitchenware and came over to give him a peck on the cheek. "C'mon," she said. "Let's go shopping."

++

Wesley stared at the assortment of kitchenware that confronted him. He picked up a potato peeler, then put it down, feeling silly. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen a potato with the skin still on. Fred didn't notice him; she was too busy looking at the endless rows of plates and forks and knives and tools that Wesley wouldn't know what to do with. She picked up a rubber scraper and turned it over and over in her hands.

"What's that?" he asked, moving closer to her side.

"It's for lickin' frosting off of," she said with a smile, and tossed it into their cart. "What kind of food do you like to eat?"

"Er, well..."

"I don't know how men live without women to take care of them."

"Cordelia can't cook either," Wesley muttered.

"At least she tries!"

"Would you rather be living with Cordelia, then?"

"Cordelia's got a roommate," said Fred, frowning as she tried to choose a plate pattern that she liked. "Besides, I don't think she'd want me living with her."

Wesley shook his head and looked once more at the kitchen appliances.

"A spatula!" Fred said suddenly. "For flipping pancakes, and for flipping tortillas - will you fry me tortillas? - and for scrambled eggs, and..."

"We could buy two," Wesley said. "Really splurge."

"Even though Angel doesn't give us hazard pay?"

"I'll ask him about it. See if we can get some sort of bonus. I could translate extra prophecies, or..."

"We could get a spatula with a wooden handle and then whittle it into a stake, so if a vampire came into the apartment while we were frying sausages, we wouldn't have to turn our back to the stove to dust it!"

"Or that," Wesley agreed.

"I think I could figure out the angles so that if we set up some sort of ricochet device above the stove, you could fling the spatula just _so_ and not even have to worry about getting your hands dirty with dust!"

Wesley bit down hard on his smile. He wanted to cup his hands around those words, to protect them with his life. Fred was still examining two spatulas, flipping imaginary pancakes with each hand, testing the heft of them.

"They're like weapons," she said. "Tools, weapons, they're all the same. Killin' demons is no different from frying eggs."

Wesley didn't follow her logic, but he would follow Fred to the ends of the earth. He took the spatulas from her hands and laid them gently in the cart, then, gathering her body to his, he kissed her, not bothering to notice the people who stopped and stared.


End file.
